Just Please Get Up
by reinkarnation
Summary: 13/Cam femslash. Thirteen is missing in the hospital. Cameron drives to her apartment to look for her, only to find her asleep.


First off, if you read this fic, you have to pretend Foreteen didn't happen -- because in this story, I didn't make it happen. And do know that this ain't smut -- I don't write smut. You know the drill. Thoughts are in italics. Some words that aren't thoughts are italicized for emphasis. And, oh, thanks to brennooth (this fic is for you, girl!) for helping me take a tour around Thirteen's bedroom. LOL.

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters. And the show.

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**Just Please Get Up**

_Knock! Knock!_

The sound woke her up. At first, Thirteen was annoyed, cursing under her breath. But as she opened one eye drowsily, beams of light rained on her. It was like White Light – _light_ because it was illuminating, and _white_ because it was… well, white.

Quickly trying to remember what happened, she found that her ability to flashback wasn't working. The only thing that her mind could process at the moment was that the sudden flow of light hurt her eyes, making her pupils constrict. Trying to make of something, she realized, to her horror, that she must be dead.

"Am I dead?" she asked to no one in particular as if that would help her snap out of all this confusion.

Shielding her eyes from the light, she groggily squinted when she saw a silhouette of a woman standing just a few feet away from her bed. Thirteen couldn't quite put her finger on who it was, but the woman looked pretty and glowing and holy and…

"Mother Mary?" Thirteen asked again. She squinted some more and noticed something different. "Is… blonde??" she continued, surprised. That's not really what people usually say when they see the White Light (or Mother Mary), is it?

Anyway, the holy, glowing, pretty woman looked alarmed for a second before leaning on the doorway. She must've thought Thirteen was crazy. "Umm… no, you're not dead. No, it's Allison Cameron. And, no, Mother Mary is not blonde… I guess," Cameron answered all of Thirteen's three silly questions.

Oh. Yes. Apparently, the White Light was just… _sunlight_ pouring through the glass windows above her bed. Good guess from Thirteen, though.

"Dr. Cameron?" Thirteen wondered aloud what on earth the ER doctor is doing in her bedroom.

The other doctor smiled and greeted, "Good –"

"You're trespassing," Thirteen interrupted before rolling on her bed and hiding under her covers. She buried her face on her pillow.

Actually, when someone breaks into your apartment, you don't just go back to sleep. You call the cops – that's what should be done. However, it didn't seem to bother Thirteen at all. It didn't bother her so much she didn't even wonder _how_ Cameron trespassed – which, by the way, wasn't as difficult as it seemed since breaking and entering was part of her old job. Thirteen sure was lucky Cameron didn't have a criminal record, so all is good. No furniture stolen, no possessions destroyed, and – most importantly – no some-random-club-girl's underwear found. Ahh, the relief.

"I'm sorry. House told me you were missing. He wanted me to find you. I refused because it was my only recess, but you got me worried. The guys were looking all over the hospital for you – and still probably are. I thought you'd be at home, and it turned out I'm right," Cameron explained.

Her explanation fell on deaf ears, though, as Thirteen had fallen back to sleep – or so it seemed.

Cameron sighed. "If you haven't noticed, it's 12 noon. You overslept. So please get up, get ready, and get dressed."

Somehow, amidst all the pillows, the covers, and her confused state of mind, Thirteen heard that. She wanted to go back to sleep but _couldn't_ since Cameron kept on talking to her. "Where are we going? Are you taking me out on a date?" she asked, murmuring over the pillows.

"I'm sorry, what was that again?" Cameron asked. Apparently, she didn't speak _Mumble_, so she really couldn't decipher a word Thirteen was saying. _Maybe if you talk to me, and not to your pillow, maybe – just maybe – I can understand you._

She never thought it would be this hard to wake the brunette – had she known, she never would've come here in the first place. Well, Cameron should know by now that worrying about people wasn't always a good idea.

"I said 'are we dating'? No, wait. That's not what I said. But I'm pretty sure the point is definitely there somewhere," Thirteen said, clearer this time albeit still talking with her face on her pillow.

The older doctor was taken aback. She didn't expect Thirteen to be that… direct. Yes, Thirteen was bisexual. But, no, she never talked to Cameron about that – or _like_ that. "Uhh, no. We're picking up lunch for you on the way. You –"

"On the way to where?" Thirteen interrupted.

"To the hospital."

"Hospital? I'm not sick."

Cameron's eyebrow shot up. _What am I doing in this place again?_ Weirded out, she wondered if Thirteen was always like this when at home.

"No, you're not sick. But you're a doctor, and doctors _work_ in the hospital," Cameron said matter-of-factly. Thirteen was obviously doing small talk just so she could spend more minutes lying on her bed. She could really be one lazy doctor if she wanted to.

Silence.

Cameron rolled her eyes. She figured that if she were Thirteen's big sister, she would probably have to get used to doing this every morning. With that thought, she silently thanked God she wasn't Thirteen's sister. Others were probably thankful too, since the last thing they would want was to switch back to brunette Cameron just when people had finally gotten used to the new blonde one. Seriously, how inconvenient would that be? Think about it.

From where she was standing, Cameron observed Thirteen. There was just really more to the brunette than meets the eye. Who knew she was this difficult to wake up? _How does she even get to work on time every day?_ Thirteen would always be a mystery.

"Really, Thirteen, stop playing games with me to kill time. If you think you can get away with that so you can have extra minutes in bed, you're wrong. That's not going to work on me," Cameron said, talking to Thirteen as if she were your typical delinquent teenager.

"'Work'," the younger doctor repeated. "Ahh, work. For my rude cantankerous boss. Uhh… I'll have to pass. I'll… I dunno, call in sick," she added, barely audible under her bed sheet.

"What? You can't call in sick. You said it yourself, you're not sick," Cameron protested, surprised that Thirteen actually decided to slack today. Since she got hired in House's new team, Thirteen had never been absent – she never even _tried_ to be, even whenever she was sick. So this slacker side of her was something her colleagues never saw.

"They wouldn't know that now, would they?" Thirteen said sarcastically. She must've forgotten that Cameron wasn't someone who would cover up an excuse for someone's slack.

"They _would_ if I _tell_ them," Cameron countered.

"_Which_ you will not."

Silence.

Cameron felt like banging her own head on a wall. What was supposed to be a simple act of kindness was turning into a Herculean task. If anything, Thirteen seemed to make her point clear that Cameron obviously had no business whatsoever with her. They weren't a part of each other's lives, so why should Cameron even remotely care for the brunette? Or why should the fact that Thirteen was absent worry her? The last time they had a reality check, they weren't even friends.

Well, the answer was simple. Cameron cared because… she cared. There was no _why_ to that, actually – that was a statement.

The blonde looked at her watch. It was past 12 noon. She barely had time to drive back to the hospital. "Look, my break is over, and I'm late for duty," she said and crossed her arms, still leaning on the doorway.

"Thanks for the info," came the uninterested reply.

'_Thanks for the info'?? How insensitive is she??_ Cameron pleaded, "Just please get up."

Silence.

"Do you know how many patients are waiting for me right now?" Cameron asked, trying to poke the other woman's conscience.

Too bad Thirteen's conscience didn't have ears at the moment. "No, but I'm guessing… about as half as many nurses there are to take care of them?" she answered, not really trying to be sarcastic, but coming off as sarcastic anyway.

"Dr. Hadley!" Cameron admonished, hoping that the word _doctor_ would help Thirteen remember that she was… well, a doctor.

The older doctor received nothing but a groan from the younger one. "Go away," Thirteen resisted.

"I'm not leaving without you!" Cameron exclaimed.

Following House's poor map instructions, Cameron came a long way just to get to Thirteen's apartment. And because she had never been here before, she – of course – got lost in the process, which made the route _longer_. That little expedition cost her a lot of time too. So, no, she was definitely not going to go back to the hospital without Thirteen. And she was not going to take Thirteen's _no_ for an answer – not to mention the fact that calling in sick when you're not sick was the worst lie she would ever hear from the brunette.

Thirteen rolled on her back and pushed back her bed sheet just enough for her to take a look at the blonde; Cameron could only see her head since the rest of Thirteen's body was still under the covers – she looked like a child tucked into bed.

"Thank you for making me feel special, Dr. Cameron. I appreciate it, I really do. But I don't need you right now, okay? I'm _perfectly_ fine. And you… _you _have a world to save. So that door is open, and you are free to leave," Thirteen raved animatedly, pointing at the doorway Cameron was still leaning on.

The blonde gaped at the other woman. Naturally, when a person (e.g. Thirteen) who was sleeping was awakened abruptly by someone (e.g. Cameron), that would usually lead to crankiness. But right now, _cranky_ was hardly the word to describe Thirteen. She was downright rude and insensitive.

Cameron walked over to the bedside and caught a glimpse of Thirteen's eyes. _Bloodshot. _She leant down to take a closer look, but Thirteen looked away. "Are you drunk??" Cameron asked, worried.

With eyebrows crossed, Thirteen looked back at her. "Is that a trick question?"

Okay, she really was drunk. That explained the attitude. And the White Light. And Mother Mary – _blonde _Mother Mary.

Walking over to the other side of Thirteen's bed, Cameron gasped to find empty bottles of beer on the floor. _Oh my God, she's so wasted._ For a while, she was relieved that Thirteen wasn't rude and insensitive after all – well, at least not really _consciously_ – but just drunk. But that feeling of relief was superseded by the feeling of dread as she realized that Thirteen, when drunk, wasn't exactly the best company.

Judging by the state of both Thirteen and her bedroom, Cameron could tell the other doctor didn't get any sleep last night and didn't stop drinking till a few hours ago. _Who on earth tries to stay drunk in the morning??_

It tugged her heartstrings, however, when it suddenly crossed her mind why Thirteen would drink to begin with. The reasons were obvious, but Cameron didn't know the other doctor very well, so there really could be more to just Thirteen's incapability of dealing with her impending death. But still, drinking wouldn't do her any good. Alcohol wasn't a solution; it was a one-way ticket to hell.

The blonde sat down on the bed and looked down at the other doctor. Thirteen just stared back at her, a little bewildered. She had the urge to grab Cameron and kiss her – yes, people, that's how she is when drunk; she's a little… aggressive – but somehow, she couldn't. She was mentally disoriented, but there was probably a minute part of her subconscious that could still draw the line between her and Cameron. Thirteen was strange like that.

"You're wasted," Cameron said.

"I'm not drunk," came the reply.

"That's exactly what drunk people say."

"Leave me alone." Her head somewhat clouded, Thirteen just stared groggily at Cameron.

Cameron smiled and brushed away a stray strand of hair from Thirteen's face. She didn't have any intention of leaving the other doctor especially at a state like this. Someone needed to take care of Thirteen. "You know, I like you better when you're not drunk," Cameron joked.

"Really," Thirteen said, her eyebrow raised. "I don't think you even like me at all."

Because things that are not normally said out loud are usually… well, _accidentally_ said out loud during the lovely phase of drunkenness, what Thirteen said was just about to get interesting.

"Do you think I don't know what's going on in your head, Dr. Cameron?" she added, reaching out and tracing the other woman's cheek with her fingertips.

Caught off-guard and nervous of what Thirteen might do and say next, Cameron just froze from where she was sitting. All ears were open.

Thirteen continued, "I know all the stuff you say behind my back. You said House hired me to replace you and nothing more. So, you mean, you think I'm just a second-rate human facsimile of you? Why –"

"Okay, that's enough," Cameron quickly cut her off, mortified. '_And nothing more'? What 'and nothing more'?? I never said that!_

"If –"

"Please, I said that's enough," she repeated kindly but firmly, removing Thirteen's hand from her cheek. _Where did she get this piece of information? _House was the only person who knew that, and he just can't keep his mouth shut. _Oh, of course._

As far as Cameron can recall, she never badmouthed her younger counterpart. So maybe she really did say that House hired Thirteen to replace her, but none of it were meant to come across as making Thirteen seem less of a doctor. In fact, she actually thinks the younger doctor was smarter than she ever was. And if anything, that meant she most certainly didn't think that Thirteen was just "a second-rate human facsimile" of herself.

But really, what caused the mess were the words _and nothing more_, mainly because Cameron never said that. Only House would have had the glaring courage to ad-lib a script just to spice it up.

_What the hell was he trying to plant in Thirteen's head?_ He just really wouldn't let the truth get in the way of a good story – or of a potential catfight, in this case. Well, he was trying to make Thirteen hate Cameron, that much was clear. But then again, House always had a knack for making everyone hate each other, so… no surprise there. What a blasphemous asshole that man is. Let's all kill him in his sleep. Or take away his cane. Or bring back Hector – the dog with the ugly anagrammed name.

Cameron was disgusted by House's pointless stupid scheme. _Ugh. I'm gonna kill him._ She could only be thankful that Thirteen finally shut up as she really was not interested and not wanting to know what else Thirteen heard from House. Who knew what else House could've exaggerated.

Standing up, Cameron crossed her arms and studied the inebriated woman on the bed before deciding to help her get up. "It's time to go. Please get up," she said, pulling away the bed sheet and receiving an annoyed _hey!_ from Thirteen.

A blush crept through her face as she found out that Thirteen was only in her lingerie – didn't really perceive her to be the kind who slept in the nude. But then again, Cameron didn't know Thirteen at all, so her perceptions could really be wrong.

"Thirteen, get up. Cuddy will kill us," Cameron pleaded, gently grabbing the younger doctor by the arm to pull her out of bed. She was not at all intimidated by how gorgeous Thirteen was in her underwear.

Thirteen couldn't be budged. "Where's Nikki?" she asked.

"Who's Nikki?"

"Nicole something. The girl from the bar."

Okay, so last night, Thirteen had – or was about to have – sex with a stranger. And, apparently, _Nicole something_ abandoned her before she even woke up. Cameron sighed, sympathetic. _A one-night stand in its purest sense._ She shook her head, amazed at Thirteen's coping mechanism – or lack thereof.

"I dunno where she is. All I know is that you have to get out of bed. Fast," Cameron answered.

"What… what are you doing?" Thirteen asked as she finally succumbed to Cameron's insistence of pulling her out of bed. Letting herself be dragged across her room and trusting Cameron for balance, she hit a realization. "Oh no, are you going to rape me?" she said, pulling away from Cameron's grip. Well, she forgot she didn't have the slightest bit of ability to stand on her own two feet, thus, almost stumbling on the floor but was lucky enough to grab the edge of her bed.

"No, I won't rape you," Cameron assured her, even though she found it silly to say that out loud. Yes, it's impossible, actually. Cameron couldn't rape anyone, even if she tried. But we can let her take methamphetamine though, and observe what happens. "I'm just gonna –"

"Don't even. Think. About getting near me," the other doctor threatened, taking a few steps backward. "I swear you're gonna get hurt."

Cameron didn't believe her anyway and walked towards her.

_Wapack!_

"Ow! What did you do that for?!" the blonde cried out in pain as Thirteen's hand met – more like slapped, actually – her cheek. Well, don't say she wasn't warned.

"I warned you!" Thirteen said. Yes, you did, Thirteen. But, really, hurting the only person who could take care of you at the moment was uncalled for.

Since forgiveness was part of her nature, Cameron just let it go. It's not like Thirteen actually did it on purpose, anyway.

Well, she _did_ do it on purpose, but she was _drunk_, and drunken people never do things on purpose – especially when they drink and drive and somehow end up in a hospital, bloody, and missing some body parts. Pretty sure they didn't amputate their own limbs on purpose.

Cameron decided to stop playing games. She figured she had to take control of everything – including Thirteen – if she wanted to even get a chance of saving both their jobs. Cuddy and House were surely going to scold them both when they get to the hospital, but that could be dealt with later. At the moment, Cameron had to worry about Thirteen first.

"Okay, that's it," she said, grabbing Thirteen's wrist.

"What are you doing??"

"Trying to get you into the shower."

They then spent a good five minutes physically battling each other with Cameron dragging the other doctor mercilessly into the bathroom just across the bedroom and with Thirteen resisting, knocking down lamps and pillows and picture frames. If House wanted a catfight, then he finally got what he wanted – except that this one was nothing but a simple struggle to get Thirteen into the bathroom.

Somehow, Cameron won the skirmish despite the fact that the brunette was the taller one between the two. Height didn't mean strength, that much was obvious – although that could also be proven false in two words: Yao. Ming.

Pushing Thirteen carefully into the bathroom, Cameron turned the shower on. "Hey! Dammit! It's cold!" Thirteen exclaimed and squirmed her way out, but the shower doors closed before she even got there. Apparently, Cameron's new first name was _Cruel_. Desperate to turn the water off, Thirteen couldn't even find the shower knob properly because she was drunk and double vision was working in full time.

"I know," Cruel Cameron responded sternly, leaning on the shower's glass doors.

"Hey! Let me out!" Thirteen pounded on the doors. "I don't think this is how you treat your patients!" she added sarcastically.

"Oh, no, I _love_ my patients," Cameron retorted mordantly, "but there's this thing called tough love, and I'm new to that, but I'm willing to give it a try on you."

"Stop! Okay, okay! I give up!"

Silence. The pounding on the doors stopped as Thirteen rested her head on it defeatedly. She was far too tired and drunk at the moment to continue arguing with someone who wasn't intoxicated like she was. Realizing that she won the whole ordeal, Cameron opened the sliding glass doors and held Thirteen who was feeling dizzy and leaning against her for balance and support.

"Still drunk?" Cameron asked.

"No. Alcohol has been dominated by the power of frost," Thirteen shot back sarcastically as she shivered.

Feeling guilty for being a bit harsh, Cameron quickly looked around the bathroom but couldn't find a towel anywhere. She sighed apologetically and wrapped Thirteen tightly in her arms, not even caring that Thirteen was in her underwear and that she was soaking wet.

"What are you doing? Get off me," the younger doctor barked, a little contemptuous.

"You're wet and freezing. There's nothing I can find to wrap your body with. I'm improvising."

Thirteen smirked, "Body heat as a towel. That's smart."

"Would you just be quiet for a sec?" Cameron ordered. "God, you're crazy when you're drunk."

"So I've been told."

"Shut up and just let me hold you for a while."

Silence took over the room. Smiling to herself, Cameron wondered how she was even able to talk to Thirteen like that as if they've known each other for so long. They were barely even friends. Maybe the surprising comfort level and frankness of their entire conversation was due to the fact that Thirteen was drunk. And Cameron couldn't be any more thankful for that. So much craziness had happened in just almost an hour. _Oh well, she'll forget everything later._

Suddenly, Cameron felt Thirteen shaking – this time, it was not because she was freezing. Hot tears fell from Thirteen's eyes to Cameron's shirt as different kinds of emotions poured out. Thirteen was cold, weak, tired, drunk, dizzy, sad, and confused. How one person was able to take all of that in without completely falling apart was way beyond comprehension.

"I'm dying… I'm dying…" she cried, almost whispering in Cameron's ear.

Tears welled up in Cameron's eyes as it became apparent that, behind that mysterious set of blue eyes, Thirteen was just a wreck. With nowhere to go and no one to turn to, she constantly found solace in alcohol and picking up women in some nightclub. She just hadn't fully grasped yet the reality that she was dying.

Cameron dreaded seeing her like this. Thirteen might be too mysterious, too robust, and too guarded not to let anyone in her life, but all of that were not all that she was, as it was now proven that she was capable of crying and of being vulnerable like any other human being. It made Cameron's heart ache just thinking about it.

"Shh…" she said gently, rubbing Thirteen's bare back. "Didn't I tell you to just let me hold you for a while?"

Although still silently crying, Thirteen did as told, and Cameron comforted her the best way she knew how. Hugs would never fail to make people feel better.

After a few minutes of silence, Cameron felt Thirteen's chest heave. "What's wrong?" she asked, letting go and looking at Thirteen who was clasping her mouth with her hand, when suddenly…

_Blech!_

Yes, people, Thirteen mistook Cameron for a Ziploc bag.

Oops. _Oh well._

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Let me know what you think.


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